


Ponies and Sleeping Bags

by WritingsOfAHobbit



Series: Thorin/Reader Stories [4]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 09:15:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13455147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingsOfAHobbit/pseuds/WritingsOfAHobbit
Summary: imagine being an unexpected member of thorin’s company and every time you stop for the night he insists you sleep close to him. you think it’s because he doesn’t trust you but he actually fell for you the moment he laid eyes on you and he wants you near him so he knows you’re safe. and sometimes to watch you sleep.





	Ponies and Sleeping Bags

You hadn’t meant to come on this quest. Mahal, you hadn’t meant to leave the Blue Mountains for more than a week. Alas, one thing had led to another and three weeks later here you were. 

“We camp here tonight!” Thorin orders and the company comes to a standstill. There’s a brief moment of silence which is followed by multiple groans as the dwarves peel themselves out of the saddles of their ponies. 

“I shall scout ahead tonight.” Gandalf states, remaining in his saddle. “I shall not go far.” He urges the horse further along the trail and eventually disappears from sight. 

“Can you move?” Bilbo squeaks from behind you. 

“Hardly.” You mutter through gritted teeth. As an unexpected member of the company you and Bilbo were forced to share a pony. There was hardly any room in the saddle for the two of you. “You slide left and I’ll go right.” 

Bilbo grunts in agreement and the two of you dismount ungratefully. You spend a moment pummelling your thighs and trying to get the blood flowing again. Once it has you’re painfully aware of the urge to pee and duck behind a bush to relieve yourself. When you return you find the others unloading their ponies. You take over from Bilbo, who is struggling shamelessly. 

Once everything is unloaded everyone sets about their designated tasks. Bombur and Bilbo manage the cooking. Dori sets about repairing any damaged equipment and Dwalin tends to the weapons. Fíli and Kíli collect the firewood and Ori writes up the days happenings in one of his many notebooks. Thorin and Balin converse in hushed tones and Bifur does whatever it is that Bifur does. Bofur, Nori and Gloin collect water and Oin replaces anything that has been used from the medical kits.

Your job is to prepare the camp for the night. This includes clearing the campsite of large stones and sticks and laying out the sleeping bags. It’s menial but it helps. Everyone has set sleeping arrangements and you can get it all right on the first time now. What had once seemed like a disorganised mess you now saw was a carefully laid out puzzle. 

Thorin slept at the back of the group, against a wall or large rock if possible. If not he would sleep as close to the edge of a cliff as possible. Fíli was an arm’s length to his left and Kíli’s bag had to be touching his brothers. Ori slept by Kíli’s feet with Nori on his left and Dori on his right. Next to Dori was Bifur, then Oin, then Bilbo and finally Balin. Gloin, Dwalin, Bofur and Bombur were spread out around the bottom of the group as the first line of defence. And you? Your sleeping bag was the other side of Thorin’s and usually the furthest away from the entrance of the camp. 

It was hardly surprising. It was quite clear that Thorin didn’t trust you. Every time you were away from the group for more than two minutes he was calling to you and demanding your return. He watched you closely during sparring practice and forced you to retire before everyone else did at night. It was frustrating but fair. He had taken a year to select the other dwarves for this quest and Gandalf had chosen Bilbo. You were here by accident and Thorin knew very little about you. Not that there was much to know about a mining dwarf. But the others were nice enough to you and Thorin didn’t seem to despise you so you let it go. 

By the time you had laid out the sleeping bags super was ready. You all gathered around the fire and ate the broth in silence. There was hardly anything to talk about after an uneventful pony ride. 

Sure enough, once the bowls had been collected to be washed, Thorin sent you to bed. You bid the others goodnight and retired to your sleeping bag. You had hoped sleep would come quickly but that was not the case. Days of nothing but riding and no sparring practice left you with unspent energy. 

You were still awake when all of the others had retired, leaving only Dwalin, Balin and Thorin awake. Dwalin positioned himself for first watch as Balin and Thorin did their rounds. They checked that each member of the company was asleep and comfortable with their weapons close by. 

As they came to you, you closed your eyes and evened your breathing. You had never been awake at this point before. It was strange. You expected Thorin to toe your sword a little closer before climbing into his bag, but it didn’t happen. You felt the gravel shift under his feet and somehow didn’t flinch when fingers touched your forehead. 

“Perhaps you could afford to tell her now?” You hear Balin say from your feet. That meant it was Thorin who was brushing the hair from your eyes and adjusting your sleeping bag under your chin. 

“We cannot afford distractions on this quest, Balin.” Thorin rumbled, stroking your hair. “No matter how tempting they may be.”   
Balin sighed. “It would be less of a distraction if you did tell her how you felt. You might have to keep fewer tabs on her. She might just tell you where she is going.” 

Thorin laughed. “No, Balin. Perhaps once this quest is over I will tell her, but for now, she can do without knowing.” You hear him stand and settle in his sleeping bag. Once both he and Balin are snoring you roll onto you back and take a long look at the prince. 

“The two of you are killing us.” You jump and bolt upright. Dwalin is eyeing you over the dying embers of the fire, axe in hand. 

“Pardon?” you blink at him and feign ignorance. 

“You may be a good enough actress to fool Thorin and my brother, but I know you heard them. Do you feel the same about him?” 

You blink at him again. “I, uh, I hadn’t thought about it, to be truthful.” 

Dwalin snorted. “Unsurprising. Thorin is good at hiding his emotions. Can you do us all a favour?” 

“Um, that depends?” 

“If you decide you do return his feelings, ask to ride with him instead of Bilbo. His mount it big enough to accommodate you both. Doesn’t have to be tomorrow. Doesn’t have to be this week. If you decide you don’t, then that’s fine. Ask to sleep by myself. You’re a competent fighter. He’d understand.” 

You nod and bid Dwalin before flopping back onto the ground. You’re definitely going to struggle to sleep now. Do you like Thorin romantically? You certainly have no complaints about him. He’s treated the company well, even yourself when he’s had no reason to do so. You have known him for years, of course. He is your prince. He led you to your home in the Blue Mountains. And yes, he was attractive. He had a regal face, eyes you could get lost in and muscles beyond compare. Sure, you had fantasised about him, but hadn’t every dwarrowdam? You knew of some dwarves that found the prince attractive. You closed your eyes a took a breath, calling on advice your grandmother had once given you.

Imagine them marrying someone else and having children with someone else? How does that you make you feel?

An uncomfortable feeling settles in your chest and your stomach rolls. Well I’ll be. You muse. You roll over on to your side and take a long look at the prince. You watch his chest rise and fall and slowly drift off to sleep. 

When morning coms the company rise with the sun and began packing up the camp as they usually do. Gandalf has arranged to meet you all at noon and so packing up takes a little longer. As the dwarves begin to mount their ponies Dwalin casts you a quick glance. You ignore him and wander over to help Bilbo up into the saddle. 

“One day I’ll get the hang of this.” He pants and shuffled backwards to give you room. You smile at pat his leg.

“You can have the saddle today. I think it’s time I made someone else suffer.” 

Bilbo shrugs and settles down in the saddle. 

You hurry across to Thorin, who hasn’t yet mounted his pony. The others are almost all up and you don’t want everyone to watch. “Ah, Thorin?” you ask tentatively. 

He casts you a glance over his shoulder. “Yes?” 

“I was wondering,” you ask, fighting a rising blush, “if it’s okay to ride with you instead today?” 

Thorin raises his eyebrows and looks truly taken aback. “Oh, of course.” He steps aside and holds the reigns of the pony. You step forwards and hoist yourself into the saddle. You’re not really sure if you should sit at the front or the back. Both require personal contact. “Shuffle forwards.” Thorin instructs, solving the problem for you. You do ask asked and he lifts himself up behind you. 

You duck your head to hide the blush from eleven pairs of surprised eyes and one pair of smug eyes. Thorin’s chest is warm and hard against your back and it’s wonderful. He flips the reigns over your head and lays an arm either side of you before giving the instruction to move out. 

That night you set your sleeping bags just a little closer together.


End file.
